


Run from your life (Run towards your life)

by KweenKevin



Series: Does that make me crazy? [6]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Bruises, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Nathan Weninski is mentioned, Scars, and Mary Hatford, implied Andriel, so is Lola
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-29 04:58:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KweenKevin/pseuds/KweenKevin
Summary: Run. Someone talked to you. Run. Someone looked at you. Run. They saw your scars. Run. It's been three weeks. Run. Your natural hair color was showing. Run. You forgot to put in your lenses. Run. Run. Run.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I.D.K.

Run. Someone talked to you. Run. Someone looked at you. Run. They saw your scars. Run. It's been three weeks. Run. Your natural hair color was showing. Run. You forgot to put in your lenses. Run. Run. Run.

Scars and bruises told stories. Neil had a lot of stories.

The bullet hole on his shoulder told about the time his dad almost got him. When his mom was shot. A week before she died. 

The iron shaped scar on the same shoulder said that he was being annoying and that he should stop asking so many questions. That 19 year old him is as annoying as 4 year old him. 

The patch of blank on his left side laughed about how he once jumped out of a moving car. About the painful next hours, in which he almost cried. Nathaniel hadn't cried since he was 4, so he sure as fuck didn't right then.

The countless cuts that decorated his body murmured about Lola. They whispered about all the ruined knife-lessons and the times she was just bored. About the times he needed to learn how to ‘toughen up’ and those where he was tough enough so he could withstand another round.

The circles on his wrist yelled that they could do worse, in a voice similar to the one that had yelled at Jean to keep him still. 

The bruises on his side cheered for exy. They encouraged him that they may hurt, but he chose to get them. He wanted them. They showed he was capable of having a life. 

The dark spots on his collarbone showed him that he always had someone to return to, someone who cared for him, even though that person would never say it. But that was alright, because he the proof that it was true, all over his chest.

Run. You need to win this game. Run. Are you really letting Kevin win this race? Run. Go to the goal. Run. Your family is there and crying, watching you graduate. Run. Run. Run.


	2. Memories change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all remembered. Everyone did.

She still remembered that boy. Balthazar Chate who lived in Toronto, just like her. She remembered his black hair and his brown eyes. She remembered his low voice, and his small body. She remembered his lips as they kissed her. Quick and chastened, a peck on her lips. It was a memory she'd never lose.

 

He could still picture Alex's way of gaming. He wasn't that good, but was very determined. He could still feel the emptiness he felt inside of him. He could still feel the horror of finding out that Alex was his first crush. He could still picture pretty, little, Alex.

Never would she forget the way he would flinch. The way he would never take off his shirt, even mid-summer. She couldn't forget the way he intrigued her. Not romantically, she didn't want any of that shit. No, he intrigued her like the moon intrigued the stars. They didn't want to fuck the moon, so why should she want to fuck him? But before she ever had the chance to find out anything, he left.

They still heard him. Heard him being angry to everyone, but them. Heard him tell them that if they didn't feel like being a girl, and didn't feel like being a boy, it was alright. Be who you want to be as long as you can. He was the first person who told them that. The person who changed who he was, who talked another language, told them they had a choice. 

Everyone remembered. Neil always tried not to leave any marks, but for these people, he did. He helped them figure out who they were. Balthazar chate. Alex. Everyone. Little did Neil know, that far away in Toronto, there was still a girl waiting for him. Remembering him. Somewhere sits a guy behind a controller, gaming with his friends, suddenly remembering Alex. There was a girl who, everytime someone fliched, still saw the first physical interaction that boy had had, many years ago. Someone heard his voice everytime someone told them that they could be who they wanted.

Neil didn't exist. Never did. But those little versions, those little alternative universes, they did. They had lived, breathed, eaten, drank, helped, exist.


End file.
